"All the dark, intricate, puzzling providences at which we were sometimes so offended, and sometimes amazed, which we could neither reconcile with the promise nor with each other, nay, which we so unjustly censured and bitterly bewailed, as if they had fallen out quite against our happiness, we shall then see to be to us, as the difficult passage through the wilderness was to Israel, 'the right way to a city of habitation' (Ps. 107. 7)."
-John Flavel, The Mystery of Providence
The day that I lost my job, this book by John Flavel showed up on my door step. I had ordered a few books the week before and always love the timing of such events. The book was written in 1678 by a Puritan man who knew nothing of the comforts of this life that I live. He didn't have air conditioning, insulated walls, cable TV, cell phone, posturepedic mattress, grocery stores, or the internet. He lived in a time period that would bring most of us to shame when compared with ours. He experienced several daily events that I will never walk through, that were a part of the times back then, and he penned such a beautiful book about the providential control our sovereign God has on this world and on my life. I've grown to love the words providence and sovereignty, which is funny for someone who struggles so much with control. I think it's the idea of it all that seems to stimulate me, for those who struggle for control, and have tried to hold on to it all their life, know intimately the despair it brings. To "think" you have something that never was yours in the first place. No matter how hard you tried, or what you tried to convince yourself of, you can't change the way the Creator designed the world to operate, and you and I wouldn't want it any other way. God's showed me my tight grip on such things as my dreams, relationships, appearance, and my job. When God chose to reveal my grip on one area of my life, I foolishly grabbed ahold of another, swinging from one desperate attempt to next, hoping that finally my idea of security would work but it never has, and I know it never will.
I believe there is purpose every time something doesn't go the way I planned, every time something like losing my job takes place. God is weaning me of the breast of this world and showing me where to find true joy. He is ravenously pursuing my heart and is all about my good and my joy and will stop at nothing, not even sending his own son to take on my sins, so that I could have the abundant life that he talks about. It doesn't matter that it doesn't make sense. It doesn't matter that it hurts for awhile. The clay doesn't get to tell the potter what to do and what to make of what he's got. I don't get to tell the creator of the world He is wrong. My compose is broken, I don't know the right way to the city. I must humbly submit to his plan. God never promised me it would all make sense on this side of eternity. But he did say that he will be faithful to complete the work that he has begun in me. And with Job I echo "I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted." Job 42:2
I must put my hand over my mouth and say: "Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further." Job 40: 4-5
JTH
